When You Find Me
Blessings come slowly like soft light in early morning or the dimming skies of nightfall. Prayers are heard and answers given though they rise in
Blessings come slowly like soft light in early morning or the dimming skies of nightfall. Prayers are heard and answers given though they rise in
Let it be dark, this cave of contemplation. No light need enter, no warmth, as winds howl with the distant noise of breaking ice and
(for William Stafford) Birds below the winter sky, their wings etched in black against the thick gray blanket. In leafless months they’re visible in rooks
In the last days of December low clouds move slowly through shades of grey, the soft beauty of a northwest morning after days of rain.